


just like i wasn't scared at all

by notthebigspoon



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:39:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan's knuckles hurt every time he flexes his hand. He turns it back and forth, examining the blood and scratches. It stings and it aches and damage has been done but Jonathan has never felt so alive. He looks up at Eli and flashes his teeth in a feral grin. Eli, taller and heavier and so perfectly capable of defending himself, is staring at Jonathan with wide, scared eyes.</p><p>Title taken from (Kissed You) Good Night by Gloriana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just like i wasn't scared at all

Jonathan's knuckles hurt every time he flexes his hand. He turns it back and forth, examining the blood and scratches. It stings and it aches and damage has been done but Jonathan has never felt so alive. He looks up at Eli and flashes his teeth in a feral grin. Eli, taller and heavier and so perfectly capable of defending himself, is staring at Jonathan with wide, scared eyes.

It was supposed to be a fun night out, get some hot wings and some booze. It’s something that they do all the time, one more way for Jonathan to get close to Eli and spend a little time with him. It's not the kind of time and attention he _really_ wants from Eli but he'll take what he can get. It had went reasonably well until Jonathan had heard someone talking smack about how touchy feely they were getting. One playful swipe of Eli's hot sauced fingers over Jonathan's cheek had drawn a venomous ' _maricon_ ' and that was when Jonathan was done.

Nobody insults Eli and walks away without Jonathan taking restitution out in blood.

He'd made tracks for the bar, not giving the asshole any warning as he gripped his shoulder and yanked him around, laying a fist straight into the man's stupid stupid mouth. He didn't let go until the fucker was no longer moving. He left him on the floor, breathing shallowly with blood pouring out of his mouth, and returned to Eli more proud of himself than he'd been in a long time.

“Did you really need to do that?” Eli asks slowly, drawl even thicker in his confusion. It makes Jonathan want to drop to his knees right there in front of everybody.

“He insulted you. Nobody insults you, not around me.” Jonathan mutters.

Eli makes a confused noise before sighing and gripping Jonathan's shoulders, steering him out of the bar. Jonathan's apartment is just around the corner and Eli walks them there with a hand against Jonathan the entire time. It takes most of the self restraint he has not to close his eyes and turn, bury his face in Eli's neck, hug his waist and never never let go.

“Open the door, Sanchez.” Eli says quietly.

Jonathan blinks. He'd been too lost in his thoughts to realize how quickly the time was going. That's kind of the story of his life when it comes to Eli. He unlocks the door and shoves it open when it sticks. He kicks his sandals into a corner before moving to sprawl out on the couch. He can hear Eli moving around in the bathroom, the sound of water running and then shutting off.

Eli drifts back into his vision moments later, sitting on the coffee table. He takes Jonathan's hand, dabbing at his scraped knuckles and making a clucking noise of disapproval. It reminds Jonathan of his grandmother and it makes him smile. Eli smiles back at him, squeezes his hand before letting go.

“You're a mess, Johnny. What am I going to do with you?”

“I would make suggestions but you would probably report me for sexual harassment and I would end up dying a sad and lonely man.”

“Funny.”

“I'm not joking.”

The ensuing silence is overwhelming and painful and brings to mind a phrase that he's heard used jokingly in different clubhouses over the years: southern boys don't. Eli's a southern boy and he probably doesn't. The disappointment is crushing. Jonathan sighs and shakes his head, silently cursing tequila and the way it loosens his lips.

His lips that are suddenly quite warm where they're pressed against Eli's except that he doesn't remember moving. He opens his eyes, stares at Eli, shocked, before his eyes flutter shut again and he sifts a hand into that soft gray hair. Eli is pulling away before Jonathan is ready, looming over Jonathan with a warm smile as he strokes Jonathan's cheek.

“I thought southern boys didn't.”

Eli throws his head back, laughing loud and bright. “Looks like we do.”

He kisses Jonathan again.

**Author's Note:**

> Maricon translates as, basically, big faggot. An unpleasant word to use but it served its purpose.


End file.
